


Looking after humans

by von_gikkingen



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Humor, Miscommunication, Other, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Rocket Raccoon-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-19
Updated: 2020-05-19
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:41:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24179875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/von_gikkingen/pseuds/von_gikkingen
Summary: “No. Nope,” I say, shaking my head aggressively at the very idea. “Not having this conversation. And definitely not with someone like you.”“What is that supposed to...”“Someone who will go out of his way to make it even more awkward than it inherently is,” I reply before he can start pretending to be offended by my implied speciesm. “I know how much fun you’ve been having with your I don't understand your earthling ways routine.”
Relationships: Peter Quill & Rocket Raccoon, Rocket Raccoon & Original Character(s)
Kudos: 4





	Looking after humans

What’s worse than spending your days handing tools to a bipedal raccoon while he assembles a machine with the word _quantum_ in the name? Hearing said raccoon announce, in a slightly too cheerful tone, “Oh, _perfect_ – a human male. I was meaning to consult one of those.”

“You were?” asks the man who was clearly on his way somewhere when Rocket got his attention by that out of nowhere statement.

And I already don’t like this. Not merely because I recognize him – because I can tell Rocket does too and he’s about to say something problematic in three…two… “You’re one of Steve’s sidekicks, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, call him _that_. To his face. People love that,” I say shaking my head at the furry extraterrestrial. Who ignores me completely in favor of gesturing for the Falcon to get in here while sporting his best _I don’t bite_ expression. Which is highly disputable at best...

“Be a good sidekick and stay out of this,” he tells me offhandedly. And I wish I could say this was the first time he called me that.

“Why do you need a… human male?” asks Wilson, not quite managing to hide he doesn’t know how to feel about going from getting on with his day to suddenly talking to a cyborg racoon.

“Just trying to work on my understanding of your people. Apparently I have some gaps,” shrugs Rocket. Which is not strictly speaking true after five years of spending an entirely too much time on this planet and I’m immediately frowning as I try to figure out what it is he’s setting up here. “So let’s say you’re looking for a mate…”

Which is as far as he manages to get before I clear my throat. Meaningfully enough to make him turn to face me - so he can get a front row seat to the _if I had force powers you’d have trouble breathing right now_ look I’m giving him.

“Well excuse me for trying to understand how your species thinks,” he scoffs.

“I will _not_. It’s inexcusable. You’re supposed to show the same courtesy I do and not _care_ about my species.”

“But you guys are so _interesting_ ,” says Rocket with possibly too much emphasis on the last word. Not even trying to keep a straight face as he utters that outright lie.

“Do you want to be building this time machine on your own?”

The answer seems to be a _no_ , what with him shrugging and telling the human male he was so keen on consulting just a second ago he’s dismissed. I mouth a wordless _sorry about him_ , since there’s no chance in hell the talking raccoon would ever even admit he was having fun messing with people, let alone apologize for it.

And then I wait. Because this conversation _should_ be over - but I don't believe for a moment it actually _is._ When he’s having his fun on a human’s account he usually likes to keep things going.

And right on cue… “Should I be asking a human female then? A _non_ -human female?” he adds in the next breath, smirking. “Because that I can help you with. There’s this Valkyrie…”

“I'm fine for companionship Rocket,” I sigh, tiredly.

“Not buying it. I know how single you are. _Very_ that is,” he comments. And that is _after_ I give him a choose-your-words-carefully look. “No reasonable excuse for it either.”

“What would be a _reasonable_ excuse?” I ask before I can think better of it.

And dammit, I _really_ should have thought before saying anything of the kind, because now I’m playing along and so anything else he says on the subject is on me.

“Being green and seriously oversized for a human, with all the logistic problems that implies?”

“No. _Nope_ ,” I say, shaking my head aggressively at the very idea. “ _Not_ having this conversation. And definitely not with someone like you.”

“What is _that_ supposed to...”

“Someone who will go out of his way to make it even more awkward than it inherently is,” I reply before he can start pretending to be offended by my implied speciesm. “I know how much fun you’ve been having with your _I don't understand your earthling ways_ routine.”

He rolls his eyes, clearly not liking the plot twist of me seeing through him. But whatever – if he wants to keep messing with humans, he really needs to learn to be more subtle about it. Or at least find a different human to practice on because I was not a fan of what was going on here.

“I _am_ trying to help you, you know,” he utters a minute later, once we get back to this thing of him doing something incredibly complicated and me kinda just standing over here.

“You’re trying to keep yourself amused because for some reason working on _a time machine_ isn't enough to occupy your full attention.”

He shrugs, not even trying to deny it. “As long as it's not some self-punishing act. You know,” he adds, catching the confusion in my eyes. “ _I worked as a temp for Hydra for a bit twenty years ago so obviously I don't deserve love_ kind of thing.”

“I never worked for Hydra,” I say simply. Because I know who gave him the idea _that_ was a thing with our people and that would be another subject I am simply not discussing with a talking raccoon. I did not come here to gossip about people that got especially terrible deal out of life. I was here to pretend I’m being useful and maybe, just maybe, for the conversation. As long as it settled on some less problematic subject sometime soon.

“Were you a contract killer or something? Because one out of six Avengers did that for a living at one point,” he continues.

“Not everyone has a dark past. As bad as mine's been at its worst has nothing to do with... I'm not _that_ single, okay?” I say, just giving up now. Because it would appear that the only way we can stop talking about it will require me to do some sharing first. “I mean I _am_ , but... Not in a bad way.”

“Tell you what. I’m gonna call my pet bug – and if she can touch you without getting a dose of something that will make her burst into tears I will let you be as single as you want.”

“I want that in writing,” is my immediate reply. Before I do a double take of his phrasing. And next thing I know I'm letting him know, in no uncertain terms, that calling Mantis _his pet bug_ is an asshole thing to do. “And why do you care anyway…?” I say once I run out of steam on that particular subject.

“It’s just… _Humans_ , you know? I want to know I got better at understanding you. Because my pet human, well, he’ll need a _lot_ of looking after, what with what he's been through lately. I don’t want to screw it up,” he sighs.

And to say it takes me completely by surprise would be an understatement. I’m speechless for a full minute after it dawns on me that _that’s_ what this conversation has been about all along. That for all his more annoying qualities Rocket actually genuinely wanted to help because from where he stood it looked like I could use some. Because the tiny genius cared. Especially for us terrans that obviously couldn’t be trusted not to make our lives more complicated than they need to be.

“Okay, fine. But if you don’t treat this as sensitive information I’ll deny this conversation ever happened," I find myself saying.

Because I could play along now that I knew that for all the fun he was trying to have with this he so clearly needed to know he _could_ be helpful to an average member of our species. “Oh?” he says, mischief already lighting up his eyes.

“Already regretting this,” I groan.

“Sure. Treat yourself to all the regret you want – but give me a name first. What we talking? A human male? A human female? It’s not _Drax_ , is it? Because let me tell you right now, you can do better…”

“I don’t even…” I frown. “Which one was Drax again?”

“My pet musclebound idiot, duh.”

I shake my head at him, even though I can tell this is just him overcompensating for showing genuine concern for one of his friends earlier. “Okay,” I say, wondering why am I doing this even as I’m saying the words. “I’ll ask. What are you calling Nebula…?”

“What do you mean?”

“Is she not your pet… something?”

“No,” he says, taken aback by the suggestion. “Do you think I’d be still alive if I _ever_ tried something like that with her?”

“I guess not,” I grin.

“You’re not crushing on Neb, are you? Because I wish I could tell you what her deal is but that’s just a total mystery. You'd think it’s a problematic subject to bring up with my terran helper monkey, but having that conversation with a daughter of Thanos…? Yeah. _Nope…_ ”

I start nodding my agreement before settling on a _what did you just call me_ glare. “Oh, so Nebula gets to be as single as she wants but when I want to keep out of all that drama…”

“ _Exactly_ ,” he says, cutting me off. “You get it. Want me to keep out of your love life, maybe try to be intimidating.”

“I am,” I tell him. Wishing that was true. Maybe back in the day – but it’s been a long couple of years and somehow I went from piloting hellicarriers to being just about qualified for getting bullied by a talking raccoon from space.

“Sure, you are,” he winks. “Now let’s get back to the subject.”

“Do we have to?”

“Yes,” he says firmly. “Look, it doesn’t have to be painful. Just give me a name. Unless… You don’t know it, do you? There are so many people around most days and who has the time to remember them all. I guess it does have to be painful then.”

“It already is,” I let him know.

“I think this is where I start throwing random guesses at you…”

Dreading what _that_ is going to be like I hand him the weird, twisted tool he’s gesturing for and hold my breath as I wait. “It’s not the guy with the cape, is it?”

“Yeah, that narrowed it down,” I chuckle despite myself.

“You _know_ which one I mean. The magic one.”

“I think of everyone I’ve been seeing around since I got summoned to help with the cleanup as basically magic,” I point out. “I _think_ I know who you mean but please do go on. Listening to you trying to describe humans you don’t know that well is... entertaining.”

Which is the wrong word. Hilarious, more like - even when the human in question is me, as I keep discovering over the next hour or so. Which, it seems, is time enough for him to lose sight of the fact he was doing all this to assist me with _finding a mate_.

“Okay, this should do it,” he announces eventually. It takes me a second to realize he's talking about the machine that was supposed to be our only priority this afternoon. I shouldn't even be surprised that for all the messing around he still got it working. Earlier than expected too...

"Is this when I get to be actually useful?" I wonder.

"If by useful you mean go tell whoever you think needs to know about this? And get me a snack on your way back?"

"Sure," I sigh. "What kind of human helper monkey I would be if I came back _without_ that."

I leave to do just that. But before I manage to locate anyone who needs to know about us yet again having a functioning time machine who I do run into is the Guardian currently too depressed to even bother trying to get people to call him _Starlord_. Who, sure, doesn't _need to_ know this, but... "About Rocket," I start.

"Oh no. What did he say?" replies Quill, his expression immediately shifting into one of worry.

"Only what I needed to hear."

"Oh," he says, clearly not having expected _that_. "Okay..."

"It's just that spending time with him always makes me want to check. You do appreciate what you have in him, right?"

"Of course we do."

"Good. Because he's kind of amazing. _Sucks_ at subtlety, but other than that..." I say, and for all that sentence kinda just trails out on me I can tell he knows what I mean.

"You're not talking about him building incredibly complex..."

"Timey-wimey machines?" I grin. "Nope."

We just stand there for a second, facing one another. In silence that makes it feel like all that needed to be communicated between us and reminds me that I do have an actual errand to go about and talking to Rocket's pet terran isn't it.

Still I can't help myself from adding a parting, "You _really_ lucked out in the friends department, you know. And I'm not just saying it because a whole bunch of mine had turned out to have been in Hydra all along..."

Clearly not knowing what to make of _that_ statement he just gives me an uncertain smile. I glance it over my shoulder, already heading forward on my way to locate someone who actually _does_ need to know about the current status of the machine. A helper monkey's job is never finished...


End file.
